Cure Her Heart
by Loqutor
Summary: Having 'reformed' Harry Kim, Seven of Nine sets her sights on Voyager's intransigent Chief Engineer. Femslash.


The two men exited the holodeck, sweat pouring down their faces. They seemed quite out of place, dressed in leather amongst others in uniforms. One slapped the other on the back. "That was awesome, Harry. I didn't know you had it in you."

Harry smiled. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Tom. We've only been in the Delta Quadrant for five years."

"That's not what I mean," Tom said. "What I'm saying is, just two months ago, I asked you to do it with me, and you turned me down. Today, not only was doing it your idea, you were pretty good."

"Pretty good?" Harry scoffed. "Come on, I left you in the dust!"

"That's what surprises me!" Tom exclaimed. "You really seem to have changed over the past couple weeks. You seem tougher, bolder, more reckless."

Harry slapped Tom on his back this time. "Well, you can thank Seven for that."

"Really? What did she do?"

Harry started to speak, but felt his tongue catch itself. iBe sure to keep these events between us./i "Forget that I mentioned her."

"Will you be up for this again?" Tom asked hopefully.

"Definitely! How about Thursday night, 2100 hours?"

"You've got yourself a deal, Ensign." They shook hands on it.

"Tom!" A voice came from further down the hall, and instinctively, the two men hid the objects they'd been carrying behind their backs.

"Hi, honey," Tom greeted his girlfriend with a kiss on the cheek.

"So, what've you two been up to?" B'Elanna scanned them up and down.

"Man stuff," they both answered in unison. "You wouldn't understand."

B'Elanna was taken aback. "Um…okay. So," she brushed her boyfriend's chin with her fingers, are you still on for dinner tonight at my quarters?"

"Absolutely. Just as long as it's not igagh/i again." He kissed her on the bridge of her nose.

"Don't worry, it's Cajun."

"You want to keep our relationship spicy, huh? That's what I love about Klingon women. You're so full of life."

Harry cleared his throat, and the sickeningly happy couple glanced at him. "Don't get so testy," B'Elanna reprimanded him. "Don't you have that Borg of yours?"

His voice full of disappointment, Harry sighed. "Seven isn't my girlfriend. Just my co-worker."

"You mean you still haven't made a move on her?" B'Elanna taunted.

"Mind your own business." The truth was, Harry had made a move on Seven several times, but she kept refusing him. Their run-in together had been, for all intents and purposes, a one-night-stand. Besides, the confidence boost that encounter had given him had enabled him to engage in a much wider variety of activities with his best friend that he wouldn't have dared to do before.

Tom and B'Elanna started making out on the spot. This was all-too-common a sight aboard iVoyager/i. "Get a room, you guys," Harry muttered as he walked away, making sure to keep the object he was holding hidden.

Finally, the couple got their tongues out of one another's mouths. "See you at 2030 hours!" B'Elanna gave her boyfriend's rear a quick slap and walked down the corridor, humming to herself. Little did she know, she was being followed. She gave a small nod to Ensign Calloway, who was stepping off the turbolift. Just before she stepped on, she felt a cold sensation on her neck; she was being given a hypospray injection. Before she could turn around to see her assailant, the ship went black and she fell to the floor.

iWhere am I?/i B'Elanna opened her eyes. All she could see was a grey surface in front of her. Moving her head from side to side, there was just one gigantic wall in front of her. She tried to turn around, but her limbs wouldn't respond. Then she felt it: a tightness behind each of her thighs. In fact, she felt pressure on the front of her waist, her abdomen, and her collar bone, and it occurred to her that she was strapped to a padded table with several large holes in it. The straps felt like leather. She focused all of her strength into her right arm, trying to break the restraint. "Your restraints are made of steel-reinforced leather," came an all-too-familiar voice from behind her. "Resistance is futile."

B'Elanna couldn't see the speaker, but she knew without a doubt who it was. "Seven of Nine! Let me go, you Borg itaHqeq/i!"

"Unacceptable," Seven said, and B'Elanna felt something touching her back. In fact, she felt it directly on her skin.

"What the hell have you done with my clothes?!"

"I will return them to you when we have finished our task here."

"Why the fuck did you bring me here and tie me down?"

"Because I have a task to perform; a task for which I require another female. I am at a stage in rediscovering my humanity in which I am exploring my sexuality. I experienced copulation with Ensign Kim. Now, I wish to engage in sexual activities with a female. At the same time, I will be teaching you to behave well when you are working with me."

"You won't!" B'Elanna's muscles tensed, and she thrashed against her restraints. "I'm the Chief Engineer, and when you work with me, you have to learn to adapt to how I act."

A sharp blow hit B'Elanna on her back. "Klingon. Species 5939. Cranium is less developed than that of a human. Unusually prone to violence, but physique is extraordinarily efficient, and immune system is powerful. Approximately two thousand were assimilated. They are used primarily for combat in the collective. Their technological and cognitive contributions are negligible."

"We're still better than you," B'Elanna growled. "The Borg have no honor."

"Honor is irrelevant," Seven hit B'Elanna with whatever she was holding on her hindquarters. B'Elanna looked up and saw Seven standing in front of her, completely naked except for a pair of black boots and a leather cap, and holding a riding crop. Her hair hung down, well past her shoulders. "You are overly confrontational. When somebody offers you a better way to perform a task than the one you propose, you often strike that person. You often let your ego interfere with your ability to make sound decisions."

"You're being a hypocrite."

Whap. "Hypocrisy is irrelevant. My technological knowledge is far greater than you could ever hope for yours to be. I should be Chief Engineer. But alas, Captain Janeway would not trust me with such power."

B'Elanna took the opportunity to rub this in. "I know. That's pretty smart of her, if you ask me."

Seven administered two strikes, one on each cheek. "Your opinion is irrelevant. I am not swayed in my plans to make you more cooperative. Resistance is futile." She walked behind B'Elanna and peered between her legs. "Just as I predicted, you have become aroused from this treatment. It's only to be expected. From what I have read, Klingon mating rituals are violent."

"If you even touch me there…"

"How will you retaliate? You cannot move your limbs, and you cannot call for help, as I have locked this holodeck and disabled its external observation interface."

"I'll tell the Captain!"

"You would tell the Captain that you allowed some Borg ipetaQ/i to catch you off guard? How…dishonorable."

B'Elanna thrashed a little more. "You bitch!"

"I am not a canine female. You will stop thrashing your limbs, as such activity will bruise them. Resistance is futile." She crouched down under the table, bringing her head up between B'Elanna's thighs.

B'Elanna felt a small tickling sensation. The object causing it wasn't bony enough to be a finger, and wasn't warm enough to be a tongue, and yet it felt like skin. It only could have been… "Why are you putting your tit in there?!!"

"Because it was an action that came from my imagination," Seven answered, penetrating B'Elanna with her nipple. "You are showing heightened arousal." B'Elanna remained silent, her hatred for Seven boiling in her cheeks. She was enjoying the sensation, but she hadn't wanted it to happen. "You will excuse me," Seven said, "But I shall not be speaking for some time, as my mouth will be occupied."

"You don't mean…ah!" She stopped mid-sentence as something warm, strong, and slimy moved itself rapidly around her sex. It twitched uncontrollably as B'Elanna used her nether muscles, attempting to keep herself shut. Of course it was a useless gesture, as Seven flicked her on that small, protruding nub, causing her to gasp. B'Elanna felt even angrier at this. The idea of Seven giving her pleasure was infuriating. More than anything else, she wished that her legs were strong enough to break the straps and allow her to squeeze that smartass Borg's head with her thighs. Dying of suffocation while eating her worst enemy's pussy…what an embarrassing ending that would be! Alas, it was only a fantasy, so the only thing she could do was try to avoid enjoying what Seven was doing.

B'Elanna thought back to the first time she'd had sex. It was her second year at the Academy, and she was with a guy who didn't have a clue what he was doing. He was clumsy, his hands were abrasive, his thrusts were too small; it was very awkward, not to mention painful. She'd felt that all she was doing was helping him masturbate. iOooh, that tongue!/i B'Elanna was snapped back to reality. Seven had a very strong, skillful tongue, and she certainly knew how to use it. That tongue was deep inside of her, and her legs quivered, not with anger, but with pleasure. B'Elanna felt that familiar tingle, and it was getting stronger by the second. Finally, she could hold out no longer. Enemy or not, Seven was about to give her an orgasm, and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. "Seven," she gasped, "Get…on me."

Seven detached her mouth and resumed work with her fingers. "Please clarify."

"I want you on top of me," Her voice was impatient.

"Understood." Seven removed her boots and climbed on top of B'Elanna, and quickly figured out why she wanted to do so. She had not experienced this full skin-on-skin sensation with Ensign Kim, which was quite a pity. It felt as though every point where her body touched Lieutenant Torres' was charged with sexual energy. She inserted her thumb, lubricating it, and re-inserted it in the remaining orifice. Her fingers and thumb rubbed together through the not-so-thick membrane. With her free hand, she slightly twisted and flicked B'Elanna's nipple. B'Elanna craned her head as far back as she could, a gesture that Seven easily interpreted. She kissed the half-Klingon woman, allowing her to taste her own arousal.

B'Elanna took in the whole situation—tasting herself while strapped to a table and being pleasured by a very hot woman—and finally came in a long, sweeping wave. She let out a loud moan. "Seven…that was…amazing," she panted. "Thank…you."

Seven latched her teeth onto B'Elanna's ear and nibbled lightly. "We have not finished yet."

She wasn't sure she'd heard correctly. "What?"

The Borg pushed herself up so that she was sitting on the other woman's butt. "You must pleasure me as much as I have pleasured you. And you must do it using only your mouth. Until you do, you will not be released."

"Fine," B'Elanna grumbled. "I'll do it."

Seven slid her hindquarters along B'Elanna's body, and repositioned herself so that she was sitting in front of her. She opened her legs, and allowed the half-Klingon to latch on.

B'Elanna wasn't sure what to think. She wanted to hate Seven, especially considering what was being done to her. But she just couldn't do it. Maybe it was Seven's hormones affecting her mood, making her enjoy herself. Or—she dreaded to accept it—maybe it was the whole situation of being tied down and forced to please a domineering woman that was making her feel so hot. It didn't really matter, because she was fully immersing herself in it. She rapidly flicked her tongue up and down, side to side. Seven did not show any physical reaction. B'Elanna moved her tongue in and out. Seven struck her on the back with her riding crop. "Unacceptable. You can do better." B'Elanna tried to remember what ishe/i enjoyed. There was always that one thing that Tom had done on her a couple times; she created a vacuum over Seven's sex with her mouth, all the while massaging a spot a third of the way in. This seemed to do the trick.

Seven gasped, her legs reflexively trapping B'Elanna's head in place (a completely unnecessary gesture), with her feet on the woman's back. She felt the tongue moving in harmony with her body's own rhythm. The pace seemed to quicken and then…it came. It was as though all of Seven's nanoprobes in her nether region were firing simultaneously. When it ended, she still did not release B'Elanna's head. Her original mission could not be neglected. She grabbed a tuft of B'Elanna's hair in her hand. "Will you hold me accountable for your mistakes in Engineering?" B'Elanna shook her head. "Will you treat me as you treat all other members of your crew?" B'Elanna nodded. "That is acceptable. Now, clean me up, and I will release you." B'Elanna was more than happy to oblige. She licked every nook and cranny, and along the insides of Seven's thighs. Seven released the pressure on her legs and stepped down from the table. "Computer, release Lieutenant Torres."

B'Elanna's restraints disappeared and she stood up. Her uniform was lying on the ground. "So," she asked as she and Seven dressed, "Who was better, me or Harry?"

"My experience with Ensign Kim was different."

"So, I was better?" She asked, sounding somewhat helpful.

"No. I said that my experience with Ensign Kim was idifferent/i. It was pleasurable, but the nature of the pleasure was different. It would be false to say that one experience was better than the other."

"I…see. Computer, what time is it?"

"The time is 2015 hours."

"I understand you have an appointment with Lieutenant Paris. Computer, end program, and disable holodeck lockout, authorization Seven of Nine, Epsilon two-two-three." The holodeck rematerialized all around them, and the door opened. B'Elanna ran straight out.

She arrived at her quarters just in time. Tom stood and walked over to her when she entered. "Hey, B'Elanna," he kissed her, using a little more tongue and holding longer than usual.

B'Elanna pulled back hesitantly. "Tom?"

"Sorry if I startled you. It's just that I was worried that you wouldn't come. Also, you taste pretty good tonight, so I kinda got drawn in. Where have you been?"

"I was, um…having a talk…with Seven of Nine…in Engineering. I guess I just lost track of the time."

"Oh, okay," Tom said, not giving it a second thought. "Let's eat."

He pulled out B'Elanna's chair for her, pushing it in as she sat down. "Um, Tom? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you and Harry were in the holodeck earlier today, were you two, um…"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Were we what?"

Unlike half an hour earlier, B'Elanna found herself quite tongue-tied. "Um, when you said you were doing 'man stuff', did you mean that you and he were, uh, you know…"

"What?!" Tom dropped his fork, laughing with a mixture of disgust and amusement. "No! Geez, you have such a dirty mind! Harry and I were just racing motorcycles across the Bonneville Salt Flats. We didn't want to tell you, because we were doing it with the safeties off."

"Oh," B'Elanna looked relieved.

"What made you even think that way, B'Elanna?"

She looked sheepishly at her plate. "Just a thought that occurred to me. Forget that I asked."


End file.
